Arrive in Italy and keep going South, all the way down, right there to the tip of the boot. Did you find a pretty town bursting with putti? Congratulations: you’re in Lecce. Lecce is packed with Baroque churches, balconies dripping with hanging plants and–holy cow!– a Roman amphitheater right there in the middle of town.

Baroque is not generally my thing, but I found Lecce utterly pleasing. It’s not a town of spectacular sights–Lecce itself is the sight. I felt like I was walking though an Italian opera set. At dusk we joined the passeggiata, the after-work stroll that is one of my favorite aspects of Italian culture. Lecce’s passeggiata was particularly lively: full of young people who must have taken trains in from nearby towns. If you ever would like to relax and be in the moment in a romantic, non-touristy, putti-encrusted town, this is the place.

Oh you know, just hanging out on a garland of orifice-fruit.

Michelin man-leg putti.

You’d better not poop on my head, pigeon!

Middle-aged man putto.

Piazza del Duomo. The entrance to the piazza is narrow and almost hidden, making this suddenly open square a surprise.